


Sleepy Vince

by littlemissvincentvega



Series: Vince's Princess ♥ [20]
Category: Pulp Fiction (1994)
Genre: Cutesy, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Implied Sexual Content, Sleepiness, Vince Is A Grump, lazy nights
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-08 05:05:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18887746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlemissvincentvega/pseuds/littlemissvincentvega





	Sleepy Vince

“Aye, man, I’m tellin’ you, he threw that motherfucker right out the van,” Jules says, tossing a couple of roasted peanuts in his mouth.

“Mhm.”

“I love Marsellus, I do, but I never knew a guy to overreact so fuckin’ much as he does.”

“Yup.”

You look up at Vincent-- his eyes are gently closed. “Babe, wake up, Jules is talking to you,” you whisper, nudging him. The three of you were having a lazy night in after Vince had invited Jules to crash at his, and as for you-- well, you practically lived there anyways. It was a nice change having Jules there, and if Vincent tested you, he’d always set him straight.

“I’m not asleep,” he mumbles, frowning.

“You want a ciggy?” you ask, and he sits up in an instant, wide awake.

“Course I fuckin’ do, baby, gimme!”

“Is she your fuckin’ slave?” snaps Jules, sitting forward in his armchair. “(Y/N), don’t get this asshole a cig, he can get his own, he ain’t a baby.”

“Fuck you, man, just ‘cause she does stuff for me!”

“It’s alright,” you sigh with a smile, getting up to fetch the pack from his jacket, leaving Jules to glare at his friend.

“Thank you, sweetness, light of my life, best thing that ever were,” Vince teases, smiling up at you sarcastically as you pop the cig between his lips and light it for him.

“Be careful, you, or I’ll shove it up your nostril, asshole,” you smirk, returning to his lap.

“Damn feisty little bitch, aren’t ya?”

Jules scoffs. “Y’know, Vince, I never knew a man disrespect his girl as much as you do.”

“She _knows_  I’m joking!”

The three of you sit in comfortable silence for the next ten minutes or so, enjoying your smokes, eyes fixated on the TV. Yawning, Vincent stubs out his cig and rests his head in your lap, letting you twirl his hair around your fingers. You gently stroke his cheek, not looking down from the TV, and it doesn’t take long for him to drift off. “He asleep?” asks Jules, his eyes twinkling.

“No,” Vince mumbles, but you nod at Jules with a grin.

“Babe, what’s the capital of France?” you ask.

“Football.”

“See?” you say to Jules, giggling. He stuffs a few more peanuts in his mouth, his face lit up by the glare of the television. The two of you are watching The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air, and when the episode finishes, you nudge Vincent’s cheek.

“Vince, move so I can get a drink,” you whisper, kissing his nose.

“Mhm, I know.”

“No,  _move_ I said!” you repeat, nudging him again.

“It’s in the fridge,” he mumbles, his words barely comprehensible.

“Oh, for Chrissake,” you sigh, pushing yourself off of the couch. He immediately wakes up, confused, his eyes wide open with terror-- as you stand up, his head slips off of your thighs and he almost smacks it on the floor.

“Baby, what the fuck?!” he splutters, scrambling about at your feet.

“She asked you to move, man,” says Jules, pissing himself with laughter. “Hold on, stay there...” he adds as he gets an idea. He jumps out of his seat and jogs to Vincent’s bedroom where he keeps his Polaroid camera. Not even five seconds later, he returns to the living room, aiming it at you and Vincent.

“It’s not fuckin’ funny!” snaps Vince as Jules takes the picture. Giggling, you help your boyfriend up and he trails after you into the kitchen, a grumpy frown on his face.

Noticing his moody expression, you hop onto the counter and smile at him. “Aw, I’m sorry daddy,” you purr, taking his hands in yours, looking up at him with innocence. He just looks at you with an annoyed but soft kind of look, and an idea pops into your head. “I’ll suck your cock tomorrow to make it up to you?”

Vincent thinks for a moment before kissing your forehead with a smug smile. “Alright, you’re forgiven.”


End file.
